Emma Holloway - A Study in Ashes

The detective’s eyebrows drew together. “I understand that the underlying ailment is of long standing. Since childhood, in fact. I assume you are referring to her condition since her kidnapping.”

He would have heard all that from his friend Dr. Watson, who had been consulted on the case. “That’s true. She’s been sick before but never like this. Dr. Magnus kidnapped her, and she fainted when his ship plummeted from the sky. It stands to reason that there is a connection. The last words she spoke were ‘Surely I killed you’—or something to that effect. Tobias couldn’t remember exactly.”

Holmes gave her a quizzical look. “I haven’t heard that last part before now.”

“No one has. I don’t think Tobias told anyone else. He can’t quite believe that Im would say something like that. She’s usually more, um, conciliatory.”

“Ah.” Holmes lifted a hand, beckoning her to follow him away from the table and into a quieter corner of the room. “That one detail changes things utterly. Tell me everything, Miss Roth, from the beginning.”

She tried to decide if he was just humoring her, but the grave expression in his eyes argued against it. Well, there was nothing she could lose by giving him the facts.

“These are the things I know for certain.” Poppy forced herself to stand still, for all she wanted to wring her hands or dig her toe into the carpet. The detective’s intense gaze was making her nervous. “Imogen eloped that day. She meant to run away with Bucky Penner, but on the way Dr. Magnus kidnapped her and took her to his ship.”

“And then your brother took her back to the Helios , and the battle followed.”

Poppy nodded. She had seen the fight from the upstairs window, her pulse pounding so hard she thought she could taste her own blood. Poppy’s voice snagged on the next words. “Imogen should be dead by now. The doctors cannot understand why she still lives.”

A silence fell between them, the detective letting her swallow down a wave of pain that threatened tears.

“I understand there was history between Dr. Magnus and your father,” Holmes said.

“They were friends,” Poppy replied. “But that all stopped around the time I was in leading strings. I don’t think they saw each other again until Dr. Magnus came to London a year and a half ago. Tobias knows the whole story. I was too little to remember.”

“But Magnus is dead,” Holmes mused. “Therefore, he is not a factor. The Wyvern was utterly destroyed.”

“But I think he is a factor. Or at least the consequences of what he did haven’t entirely faded away. Do you know about his automatons?”

“Yes.” Holmes’s face went dark. “Evelina told me.”

“Did she tell you that the one named Serafina held the spirit of Imogen’s twin?” Poppy shuddered, and she avoided saying the name with an almost superstitious dread. She didn’t remember Anna, but her dead sister’s face stared out at her from old pictures. She was supposed to be identical to Imogen, but Poppy always knew which twin she was. There was something cold in the eyes and the smile, as if the angels had run out of souls before they got to her.

“No, she didn’t,” the detective said quietly.

“Evelina might not know. I think Imogen might have found out on the ship.” Poppy chewed her lip. “Imogen killed the automaton and then it burned up when the ship went down, so it was destroyed. But then what did Im’s last words mean?”

That made his eyes go unfocused, as if he was looking inward. “That is a very, very good question. There was no one else present when she uttered those words?”

“Just Tobias. Something happened to my sister, Mr. Holmes. I need to find out what it was so we can fix it.”

Holmes gave her a look that was unexpectedly kind. “You have met Evelina, so you are aware that I have experience enough not to underestimate young ladies. Especially those with promising minds.”

Poppy flushed. She’d never actually done all that well at school. She was too easily bored. “Thank you, sir.”

“I will do you the honor of being frank,” he said. “I am sure your suspicions are based on observation and not fancy, and there is in fact something real amiss with your sister. But I suspect that magic is a factor, and that is not my area of expertise.”

Magic was also highly illegal—a prejudice that the Steam Council promoted with all its money and power, mostly because they couldn’t buy, sell, or otherwise control it. Most convicted of using magic were burned to death or locked up in a remote laboratory for study. No wonder Holmes didn’t want anything to do with it. Who would willingly risk association with anything of the kind?

“I understand,” she said softly, her gaze shifting away.

“You misunderstand. You need someone with more ability to assess the situation. Have you heard of Madam Thalassa?”

Poppy’s eyes widened, hope reviving just as quickly as it had died. “Who hasn’t?”

Holmes gave a slight smile. “Madam and I have an understanding. My methods and hers are universes apart, although we are both highly effective at what we do. Our spheres of interest might not touch upon any point, but we do each other the courtesy of redirecting clients when they stray into the wrong camp. If I ask her to see your sister, she will come.”

“And she’ll be able to help Imogen?” Poppy said breathlessly.

Holmes held up a hand. “She will know if there is anything to be done. That is as much hope as I can give you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Holmes!” For a moment she lost her poise, feeling as if she might weep and grin at once, but then ducked her head, wanting to get this moment right. “I’m so grateful for your time and assistance.”

“And now perhaps you can answer a question of mine.”

“If I can.”

“I understand the Scarlet King was here tonight. Did you see him?”

“I did. He’s gone now.”

The detective’s brows drew together. “What did he do while he was here?”

“He brought a mechanical bird that breathed fire and he offered me a peppermint. Then he argued with Mr. Keating. Why do you ask?”

“Like everyone else, I am curious about the attack on Westminster. I’ve been watching the possible perpetrators with interest. I do not think that he did it, though.”

“No?”

“No, but I do think he knows something.” Holmes seemed to catch himself. “You didn’t eat the peppermint?”

“No, sir.”

“Good. It is not common knowledge, but Reading dabbles in poisons. It’s how he got where he is today.”

Poppy felt her eyes going wide. “Are you quite certain, Mr. Holmes?”

He gave her a sidelong look. “I don’t trifle with such matters.”

“Then thank you for the warning.”

“My pleasure, Miss Roth,” he said gently. “As I said, I have great respect for young ladies. And now, if you will excuse me.”

He gave a slight bow, and she curtsied, and as quickly as that the encounter ended. He walked away, disappearing into the crush. She lingered in that spot for a moment, suddenly shaky as she reviewed the conversation. She was so glad she’d mentioned Imogen’s final words. That had meant something—but what?

And how was Madam Thalassa ever going to see Imogen? The woman was a renowned medium, but stayed in hiding in fear for her life. How did Holmes even know how to contact her? Poppy’s stomach knotted with uncertainty. She’d set something in motion, but was more than a little fearful of its end. If the law caught a psychic medium in the house, every member of the family would feel the Steam Council’s wrath. But there was no other way Poppy knew of to help her sister.

Poppy had a sudden, aching need to see Imogen. It struck so deep, she caught her breath. She didn’t care what her mother said; it was time to leave the party.